


Approximation

by Davechicken



Series: The Pilot and his Knight [20]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-03
Updated: 2016-04-03
Packaged: 2018-05-30 21:49:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6442246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Davechicken/pseuds/Davechicken
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kylo Ren doesn't know why Poe won't just - you know - do it. To him. That thing. You know. But Poe won't...</p>
<p>[Expanding on a scene mentioned in Prima Nocta]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Approximation

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Themes_of_November](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Themes_of_November/gifts), [poetdameron](https://archiveofourown.org/users/poetdameron/gifts).



Kylo Ren knows two things for certain. One: he loves Poe Dameron. Two: he hates Poe Dameron. It is a curious state to be in, but it’s undeniable. He knows it all the way into his bones and back. If Snoke were around to try to read his mind, right now? He’d recoil in horror at the constant stream of hateful adoration. 

Poe Dameron is evil incarnate, and Kylo thinks he knows evil, because he was it, for quite some time. He’s sort of a recovering junkie, and clearly Poe is the medication for that, or maybe it’s just that he’s a step up, he’s an escalation. It’s not so much maintenance doses as it is a drug he’ll never detox from, and one he’ll take until he dies.

And why is Poe so evil? He’s so evil because Kylo thinks just because he hasn’t had a string of lovers that Poe shouldn’t treat him like he’s made of gossamer and spun sugar. The worst thing he could ever have admitted to Poe was that their first time had been _his_ first time, because that meant he decided to become all gentlemanly and sweet. 

Which is evil.

Kylo does not _want_ gentlemanly and sweet. Or, he does, but not all the time. He’s had enough time to come up with an intense library of thoughts that he _most assuredly_ pretended didn’t exist. but very obviously did. He has a bucket list longer than his saber blade, and quite a few of them involve things slipping into him. Or… more than slipping. He doesn’t know why he’s so obsessed with the idea of being fucked, but he is. 

And apparently he’s incapable of asking for it, because every time he tries, he just utterly fails to say: _Poe, I would like it if you try to put your penis inside my rear, and then move it in and out, if it’s not too much of a bother_. Or even: _Poe, would you fuck me already, I’m thirty and no one’s sodomised me and I really think it’s time we fixed that_. Or: _Cock. Ass. Tab. Slot. Clearly designed with one another in mind. Thank you_.

So he decides to try forcing his hand, without saying anything aloud. He gets pants that are deliberately on the tight side. He even goes so far as to remove the upper layers of long tunics and robes, opting for higher cuts (or tucked into the wide belt) so his ass is on display as he walks (and that is almost physically painful, and he feels naked like that, but if he gets fucked it will be worth it). 

That doesn’t work.

Well, you have to up your ante in times of war, and this is a war for his ass and the deflowering thereof. So next time they get to the heavy petting stage, and they’re lying on the bed, facing one another and making out… Kylo grabs Poe’s hand and puts it on his ass. And then, again, back on his ass when Poe strokes elsewhere. He figures to keep it there, then, and he gropes Kylo so firmly that the taller man’s foot wiggles in delight. 

Definitely getting with the picture, which is good. Kylo lets Poe bite at his lips and lick his tongue inside his mouth, and that feels good, too. Poe manages to make every last bit of him feel all heated and itchy, but a good itchy. He growls when Poe stops groping at his ass until the man sits up and devests. Poe has a lovely torso, and Kylo leans in to bite at his chest playfully. He tastes of salt and man and Kylo gets more than a few hisses and moans out of Poe before hands in his hair pull him upwards for more kisses. He puts his hands on Poe’s waist, and when Poe doesn’t grab his ass again, he decides to go for a more direct route.

Like, say, pushing Poe onto his back and straddling his hips. And sitting on his lap, and putting his hands on Poe’s torso and grinding his black-clad butt over the swell between his legs. He can tell how aroused Poe is, and the thought of that nice, fat cock filling him up, making the weird emptiness go away and - nope. Poe is now pulling his shirt off, which… okay. He can live with that, too. His hands go back down and scratch lightly down over his chest when he’s suitably stripped to the waist, and he bites his lip and tries to rock and slide and draw figure-eights and figure-fuck-mes over Poe’s groin. He tosses his hair back from his face, and wonders if he gets it _now_?

“Babe…”  


Kylo feels the other’s hands stroke lovingly over his chest, over his arms, over his stomach. He memorises the trail of them, wanting to record the moment forever in his mind. To remember how it feels when Poe cups him through his pants, when he gives him something to rut into. He hums in contentment, and his eyes slit narrow when Poe starts to unbutton his belt, starts to tug the leather out, one loop at a time, the caress around his waist a torture all of its own.

Poe. Is going. To fuck him. And it will be wonderful. And Kylo will have given Poe the last thing: the last, dark, hidden place. Given his body utterly, like he’s already given his heart and soul. He doesn’t care if he’s attaching too much importance to a sexual position because, fuck it. He can, if he wants. He gets to decide if offering his ass up for the reaming means something or not. He decided it plenty over the years when he refused to let ass, dick, mouth - _any_ of him - please or be pleased. This **means something**.

His belt gone, he moves as requested. He arches up, and then climbs backwards off the bed when Poe sits up. His pants are shoved down, and Poe has one hand around the back of his neck, the other around his dick, and they’re breathing one another’s remnants, hot and recycled. 

“Babe…”  


“ **Yes** ,” he says, and his heart hurts.  


“Lie down, babe.”  


He can do that. He’s already de-booted, so now he’s utterly naked. Naked, and all but vibrating with glee. He’s guided to lie on his side, and he does so. He bends his knees, slightly, trying to push his ass out in an appealing way. It won’t be powerful like this, will it? It wouldn’t be fierce, and deep. Okay. He can get with slow and sensual, too. Maybe once Poe realises he can fuck him without breaking him, maybe then he’ll bend him in half and ride him like he’s an angry Rancor? Baby steps. 

Poe slides his pants off, too, and then moves to spoon behind him. His legs are not as long, but he still bends his knees into the space behind Kylo’s own, and reaches over to find Kylo’s hand. Kisses between his shoulderblades, and a lazy rub against his ass. Nice, but not the main event. Kylo bends his knees further, and Poe hisses in response. _Good_.

(Because, seriously, Poe does like to fuck guys in the ass, right? It isn’t that he doesn’t want to? Or is it just Kylo’s ass that is somehow not compelling enough? Should he draw a fucking target on it?)

Shouldn’t there be lube? Isn’t that a thing that generally happens? Poe does _own_ some, doesn’t he? If he doesn’t, this isn’t going to work. And it would also explain his reticence, so far. It shouldn’t be hard to procure, and everyone knows they’re an item, so it can’t be a matter of hiding his sexual preferences and proclivities? Should Kylo gets some and leave it in strategic places around their home, and hide it if they get guests?

Poe lifts one of Kylo’s legs gently, and then the stiff, pointy, lovely thing between his legs stops butting at his cheeks. Kylo looks over his shoulder as Poe pushes his knee back down, trapping Poe’s cock between his thighs. It lies sort of under his balls, and - hmm. More foreplay? Fine. Not like they’re both hard, is it? Kylo _likes_ foreplay, but he thinks he would also like **realplay please**. 

“Poe?”  


“Shhh,” Poe hushes him. “Wanna hear you breathing.”  


Kylo would breathe harder with a dick trying to hit his lungs from the inside. Okay, it would be closer to his lungs if it went in his mouth, but he’s sure he could still have the air fucked out of him from below and behind. He whines in low distress as Poe starts to slide in and out, in and out. Kylo can feel the precise shape of his prick as it rubs between the softer space of his thighs, and the way he rubs against his sac and bumps into his own dick is **not fucking fair**.

“POE!”  


“Babe… damn, damn but you feel good.”  


“Why are you doing this to– _hnnnghhhh_ –”  


Poe laughs, because he’s evil, and he has forced Kylo’s hand to curl around his own cock. Which would be fine, but then Poe’s fingers lie on top of Kylo’s hand, and he guides his fist up and down over his too-firm length. 

It feels so weird, but also so, so, so good. Kylo briefly forgets that he’s angry, and turns his face into the pillow and screams, just a bit. Poe is still fucking between his legs, and this isn’t foreplay, is it? Poe actually intends on leaving his dick so close to where Kylo wants it as to be in spitting distance - close enough that a hiccup and he could be _skewered_ \- and that’s it? Kylo wants to murder him. Except then he’d never get fucked. 

By now it’s much, much too late to say anything because every weirdly directed stroke to his cock has his whole body shaking and wracking with pre-bliss. He can feel the man snuggled behind him close, too. Poe breathes in this weird way just before he’s about to climax, this absurdly cute little hissing noise, and Kylo hears it creeping in. Poe’s going to come, and he’s still not fucking him. The sensation of his dick against the base of his own, the tight channel made of both of their hands… it’s so so so so so so good but not good enough but good but no but yes and he turns his head and bites onto the pillow, screeching out his wordless protest into cotton and feather-down, the sound broken in the plush furnishings. He comes first, the climax a mix of pleasure and despair, a heady, bizarre mingling of both love and hate that makes perfect sense.

Poe comes between his legs. Kylo doesn’t even have the strength to swipe his fingers through their mess and shove them up into his own ass, to remind him what he’s missing out on. Instead, he lets go of the foul-tasting fabric, spits noisily and drily, and puts his head on the damp pillow.

“Man, I love you,” Poe purrs.  


Kylo grunts. It’s meant to be _I love you too but I’m going to remove your dick and ride it anyway_. 

But he’s too tired for that, and instead he lies and tries to sleepily formulate his next plan of attack. 

Poe Dameron is going to damn well fuck him in the ass if it’s the last thing that happens before the universe explodes. Damnit.


End file.
